Direction of the Lost Winds
by NeverDreamsOfMe
Summary: Pocahontas has lost John Smith - and now his compass. She is left feeling completely without direction until our favorite pirate shows her the importance of getting up to get what you want. Finished!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Pocahontas, or Pirates of the Caribbean.

... I don't quite recall how I came up with this one, either xD I think I was just thinking about how both of these movies have compasses. They're pretty big themes, too. Then I probably thought something along the lines of, "Hm, that would actually make a cool crossover." So... here ya go! :D

...

Chapter 1

Pocahontas sat on the edge of the cliff, like she had often done these past few weeks. Her knees folded against her chest, with her arms wrapped around them. A gentle breeze played with the beautiful black hair that cascaded down her back. Absentmindedly, without moving, she sniffed at the moving air. It came from the north, from her left, and carried a slight chill. Summer was ending, and autumn was not far off. Though the young woman adored autumn and its' slow explosion of color, its' coming brought her no joy now. She sighed and tilted her head so that her left cheek rested on the table her knees made.

John Smith had left her village wounded some time before. Wounded in body, yes, from the bullet that would've killed her father, but also bruised in spirit. John and Pocahontas were in love. Watching him leave, from this very spot, had been akin to tearing her soul in half. She knew it was necessary, for without proper medicine from his people he would die. That didn't stop her from selfishly wanting him to stay. The memory of their first kiss scorched her eyelids and her heart.

_Oh, John._She closed her eyes against the sunset-stained ocean before her. It stretched to the east and the unknown beyond. John was somewhere over all that water. His strikingly masculine features, soft blue eyes, and strange blonde hair materialized in her mind. Being with him made her feel like a woman again, something she hadn't felt since before her mother died. John had filled that space and more. Now that he was gone, Pocahontas felt like she was grieving all over again.

The young Native American sighed again and opened her wide black eyes. This evening she was especially upset. Two days ago, she found she had misplaced Johns' compass. It was only a flat round disk with a spinning arrow in the middle, "a dime a dozen back home," as John had said. Still, losing it felt like a betrayal to his memory. The one thing she had left of him, she went and lost. She had looked everywhere for it, when a thought occurred to her that maybe she hadn't. _Meeko probably filched it when I wasn't looking._She made a mental note to check all his hidey-holes tomorrow.

A purple sky soared above Pocahontas now, sprinkled with the first stars. She looked up to check the ocean again. It was black and empty as ever. Disappointment, so familiar to her now, thudded in her heart once again. She unfolded her long limbs and stood up, a lone figure upon the cliff. Pocahontas lingered for a moment longer, brushing off her deerskin dress, before turning and retracing the familiar path back down to her village.

...

Short, yeah? Chapter 2 is about the same, and will be up soon! R&R, please and thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Pocahontas or Pirates of the Caribbean.

I'm sick of putting that disclaimer up. Just apply it to every chapter from here on out, 'kay? xD Enjoy!

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Chapter 2

The _Black Pearl_ glided across the now-calm ocean. She had run into a storm yesterday. Not much damage had been taken, but everything on the deck and below - including the crew - was still waterlogged. Nothing was ahead but the serene blue. If one looked back, one could still see the ominously steely clouds moving south, away from the ship.

Captain Jack Sparrow, the man at the helm of the _Pearl_, did not look back. He didn't care to. Jack always moved forward, never stopping for reflection nor regret. He was a drifter, a man who lived life by the direction of his whims and the winds on the sea. That wind fluttered his dirtied white shirt cuffs and wild, almost dreadlocked, hair now as he contemplated where it was taking him this time.

Whispers in the Carribean spoke of the New World and the fantastic treasure supposed to be hidden there. Like any other pirate, Jack jumped at the mere thought of gold. He and Gibbs had promptly hired a crew and set off north on the _Pearl_. The journey had taken some weeks now. The crew grew more restless and hungry (food was running low) the further they went. If the ship didn't land within the next couple of days, Jack reckoned there would be big trouble. They might even be forced to turn back, and Jack hated to do that.

Jacks' right hand released the wheel to dart into his jacket pocket. It closed around a small square something. He brought it out and flipped it open - his compass. It was a curious little thing because it didn't point north. The arrow swiveled every which way before settling on a direction - behind them. Jack looked up. They were heading in the direction of the setting sun. _Now that's not right._ They had to go the other way; the storm had thrown them too much to the west. He said as much to Gibbs, who was standing next to him. His first mate immediately started barking orders at the crew. The men below sprang into action, scurrying around the deck like ants in an overturned nest.

Jacks' lips lifted in a crooked cynical little smile. He clicked his compass closed and slipped it back into his pocket. He turned the ships' wheel gently, accommodating the direction change while making sure nothing would go overboard. His kohl-lined brown eyes roamed over the horizon and rested on the place where sea and sky blurred together. Thats' where Jack was going, and no one could tell him otherwise.

...

Yay for pirates :) Thanks for reading, please review! Chapter 3 will be up soon!


	3. Chapter 3

This is a long one! Compared to the last 2, anyway. Enjoy!

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Chapter 3

No view in the world could beat that of a treetop, in Pocahontas' opinion. That's exactly where she was now. Like she'd decided the night before, this morning was set aside for checking Meekos' hoards. The four she'd checked already turned nothing up. However, the day was new, and there were plenty more to go. A good nights' sleep had refreshed Pocahontas and brought her old optimism back. She threw her head back and smiled at the sun. Her hair fanned out behind her in the breeze. There was no room to be sad on a beautiful day like today.

After enjoying the sun for a few minutes, Pocahontas opened her eyes. _Time for the next one._ She started to climb down the tree. It was easy for the agile Native American, who had been roaming the forest climbing trees her whole life.

A noise sounded deep in the forest that made Pocahontas nearly lose her grip on the branch. _The drums?_ The rhythm spelled "emergency." _What could have happened?_ She scrambled the rest of the way down the tree, jumping down from a place higher than she probably should have. Luckily, she landed on all fours like a cat. As soon as she hit the ground, she started running, her heart in her throat.

Pocahontas got to the village so fast that it hurt to breathe when she stopped. She bent double, hands on her knees, to catch her breath. When she recovered, she looked up. Her heart, which had been pounding wildly a moment ago, stopped.

The entire village stood at the edge of the ocean. Pocahontas' big eyes followed their pointing fingers out to sea. A ship was anchored a short way from the shore. The young woman took a step forward. Hope blazed in her chest, but something in the back of her mind just didn't add up...

Somehow she made her way through the crowd to stand at the front next to her father. He was a tall man, with strong arms and a bare chest. The cape that fell from his shoulders signified his status as chief, as did the headdress resting on his black hair. They stood for a time in silence, watching a rowboat being lowered from the side of the ship.

"This ship is not like the one that visited before," Father said quietly, "It is the wrong color."

Yes it was, Pocahontas noted. The ship John had arrived in from England had been brightly colored, with white... what was the word?... sails. This one was completely black. It gave her a small prickle of foreboding. Her growing hope quickly brushed it aside. Just because it wasn't the same ship didn't mean he wasn't aboard. The possibility of seeing John again swelled in her chest, restricting her ability to breathe. She willed the rowboat to go faster. The anticipation was strangling.

...

Antsy murmurs from the men in the rowboat bothered Jack, but he made no move to silence them. The Captain stood at the front of the little craft. One boot rested on the prow in a conquerors' pose. The Indians gathered the shore worried him slightly too. But from the way they were staring, it didn't seem like they were hostile. They merely looked curious.

The boat hit the shore with a bump. Jack sprang out of it, the sand crunching beneath his boots. The three Indians he landed in front of seemed to be the most important in the tribe. They stood in the front, the rest of the tribe at a respectful distance behind, with varying expressions. The stooped old man on the left peered at Jack suspiciously. In the middle, a younger man wore a headdress and a more welcoming expression. Next to him was a beautiful young woman. Jack wondered at the blatant disappointment in her eyes. _I'm not that bad-looking, am I?_ She reluctantly took a step towards him, then another. As she moved, her right hand moved in an arc, palm flat forward, in a kind of greeting.

"My name is Pocahontas." Her voice was sweet, curiously accented, but a little sad. "Welcome to my tribe. I shall speak for you while you visit."

"I thank you, my dear," said Jack, wondering how she learned English, "But you see, that's not entirely necessary. We've just come to dig up some gold, claim it all for ourselves, and scurry on back to the Caribbean. Savvy?"

The girls' eyes widened and then narrowed. "There is no gold here. There is a whole village of men like you there-" She pointed south a ways to a distant wall of timber, an English settlement, "Who will be able to tell you the same." Hostility colored her voice.

Now, Jack was a man used to hiding things. He recognized that she was trying to do the same, and it amused him. A plan formed in his mind. He inclined his head towards her. "I understand. Terribly sorry to have bothered you. We'll just run over to that settlement there," Jack gestured with his arms, "Pick up a couple of supplies so my crew doesn't revolt on the way home, jump back on the boat and -"

"Wait." The man in the headdress interrupted, again in the strange accent, "Do not leave so quickly. Spend a night with us. Our warriors have returned from a great hunt. We shall feast in their honor as well as yours."

Even better, Jack thought. The grin he'd been holding back broke across his face. He bowed his head again. "Thank you." Being invited into the heart of the village would make it easier to discover where they kept their gold.

"Let us proceed then!" Headdress man declared. He turned to orate to the rest of the Indians, who cheered and hurried off to prepare for the feast. The girl who had first spoken - Pocahontas, was it? - gave Jack an unreadable look before turning and walking away. Jack, unperturbed by this, turned to Gibbs and the rest in the boat and said, "We'll be dining good tonight, boys! Get the rest of the crew, this is what we'll do..."

...

I'm gonna be busy for the next couple of days, so you'll have to wait for Chapter 4. It's worth it, I promise! Thanks for reading, please review!


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the wait! Here ya go!

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Chapter 4

_It wasn't John. He hadn't come._

Those two sentences repeated themselves in Pocahontas' head like some sort of torture device. The words twisted into her until she went past pain into that numb state. She would have excused herself from the feast, but she had an obligation to stay as the cheifs' daughter. She smiled and pretended to enjoy the food, though it tasted like ash. She clapped along with the drums that wove the dancers' rhythm, but didn't enjoy them like she usually did. A fire roared in front of her, and the late summer air was deliciously balmy, yet she couldn't get warm.

She snuck a glance to her right at the man called Jack. He was telling a story to a small group of warriors, gesturing his arms wildly. The warriors listened politely, without much interest. Pocahontas couldn't say why she didn't trust him, or any of his men. It was just a gut feeling. He had a shifty, dishonest air about him that Pocahontas didn't like.

"Daughter?" Her fathers' voice made her jump. She looked up a little guiltily into his face - she'd had to look past him to glare at Jack. "Are you well? You look distracted."

"Distracted" was hardly the right word, but Pocahontas played along. "Now that you mention it Father, I am a bit tired. Would you please excuse me?"

The cheif nodded, patted his daughters' hand, and kissed her forehead. "Pleasant dreams then, Little Swallow." Pocahontas smiled a little at her childhood nickname. She kissed her fathers' cheek in return before standing. Threading her way through the people and away from the light, she headed for their wigwam. She walked right past it, not intending to go lay down. Sleep was far from her tonight. What she wanted was a walk in the dark, quiet forest to wrestle with her sickening disappointment.

"Going somewhere, love?" Pocahontas jumped again. She whirled around to come face-to-face with Jack. The half moon illuminated his features. For some reason he was smirking at her. The young womans' temper flared.

"Yes, but I don't believe you were invited," she snapped.

Jack spread his hands wide in a gesture of surrender. "That I wasn't," he admitted, "However, if you would be so kind as to invite me wherever it is you're going, I wouldn't have to go to all this trouble following you in the dark. Savvy?"

Pocahontas rolled her eyes. she turned away from him and started walking again. Much to her annoyance, she heard his footsteps behind her.

"Honestly," she threw over her shoulder, "Can't you just leave me alone?"

"That I can, sweetpea, but will I? That's a different story." Jacks' voice slithered back over her shoulder. "Tell me what's got you so hot 'n bothered, eh?"

He seemed to be laughing at her. The nerve of this man! Pocahontas stopped and spun around so fast that her hair whipped the air. Jack took a step back in surprise.

"You." She hissed. "_You_ are the problem. You, showing up here in your big ship, demanding gold when there is none, reminding me of -," She gasped a little, for she had almost said Johns' name. If she uttered it, Pocahontas knew she would start to cry.

Jack was smiling in a way that reminded her of a fox. "Who do I remind you of, love? Come, tell me."

Black tresses flew as Pocahontas shook her head. "You don't remind me of him - you're nothing alike. It's just... I thought..." her voice trailed off as her helplessness choked her. She hung her head in an attempt to hide her feelings.

"You thought your knight in shining armor was coming to rescue you in my ship, eh?" Jack sneered.

Pocahontas looked back up at Jack. How could a man be so cruel? She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat closed again. A film of tears clouded her vision. She twisted and ran from Jack before he could recieve the satisfaction of seeing her tears fall.

...

I have yet to write Chapter 5... *slaps own wrist* My wisdom teeth got pulled today but I will write through the pain! Stay tuned!


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry for the wait; here ya go!

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Chapter 5

Jack woke up the next morning feeling unusual. He spent a few moments laying on the pallet in the wigwam where he had slept trying to puzzle it out. It wasn't a lack of rum - he had personally seen to it that the party last night was well supplied - but neither was it an excess. The food the Indians had prepared seemed to agree with him. Jack was feeling bad, but it was a new kind of bad, and he didn't know what to do about it.

Eventually, the memory of a confrontation came back to the groggy pirate. Ah yes, he had tried following the Indian girl, Pocahontas, determined to find the gold. She had insisted again there wasn't any. Then he'd said something... something about a knight and the _Pearl_... he shook his head because he couldn't remember. Whatever he had said, it was entirely in jest. So why had she fled from him with tears in her eyes?

The emotion coursing through Jack now revealed its' name: guilt. Normally, Jack would have scoffed at such a rediculous sensitivity, but he couldn't help feeling genuinely sorry for what he had said. Try as he might, he couldn't think of how that could be. Something in this Pocahontas just pulled him to her. _I_ must _have had too much rum last night_, Jack thought, shaking his head again. He would never have such preposterous thoughts otherwise.

In the end, Jack sat up and stretched. Too much rum or not, he had to find Pocahontas and apologize. _She's the key to the gold_, he told himself firmly, _Nothing more._ He squashed down the little voice trying to tell him otherwise as he swung his legs out of the pallet. After lacing up his boots, he set out to look for her.

Searching for the girl turned out to be a real chore. It soon became apparent that she wasn't in the village, so Jack had to go tramping through the forest. Though the pirates' navigational skills were unrivaled on the open sea, he was completely confused in the tangle of trees. Jack hated the claustrophobic feeling. The farther he went, the more irritable he became. His frustration peaked when a tree branch fell and hit him on the head. Cursing loudly, he massaged the promising bruise and squinted up through the leaves, trying to see the culprit.

"Sorry!" A familiar voice called. A figure leapt down from the tree in a cloud of black hair. That voice and figure belonged to none other than his quarry, Pocahontas. She seemed to be in a much better mood than last night. One look at Jack though, and her face fell. Her mouth formed an O of surprise. They spent a moment staring at one another.

"On second thought, I'm not so sorry." All her anger seemed to have returned as she narrowed her wide eyes at Jack. She started to walk away, trying to push past the pirate, but he blocked her path.

"Don't be like that, love. I just have one thing to say to you, and then I'll be off." Jack tried to sound nonchalant, not desperate.

"There's nothing I want to hear you say," Pocahontas spat.

"And that's fine," Jack assured her, "But as long as we're both here, and I've been trying to find you all morning, we might as well just get this over with. Savvy?"

Pocahontas glared at him. For an awful second it looked like she would just walk away from him. When the moment thankfully passed, she siged and said, "I'm listening."

"I just wanted to say," here, Jack paused to swallow his pride, "that I'm sorry about last night." Pocahontas' eyes widened in surprise. "It was never my intention to made a pretty thing like you cry. Whatever I said, I'm sorry."

Those black eyes fixed on the ground between them, hair falling across her face. After a short silence, she quietly said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Jack replied awkwardly. These niceties and honesty just didn't become a pirate. He thought it best if he just cut to the chase. "Now, about the gold -,"

"I _told_ you," Pocahontas' head snapped back up, "There isn't any."

"I know you've told me, darling, but I just wanted to be sure -,"

"Augh!" An exasperated noise escaped Pocahontas' throat as she threw her graceful arms into the air. "You white men are all the same. Always you want more gold, more land, and what you aren't given, you take by force!"

"Yet last night you said I was _un_like someone," Jack countered, suddenly remembering, "Who aren't I like, love? Who am I so different from that you can't even stand me?" Pocahontas' eyes closed as if she was in pain. Jack waited a long moment for her to open them. When she did, she looked directly at him. The intensity of her gaze staggered him, and he blinked.

"John Smith," she murmured at last, and looked at the ground again, "He was a white man, like you, who arrived here on a ship like you did. Yet... he saw this land for what it really was after he realized it wasn't what he thought it would be. And," here, Pocahontas bit her lip, "And he got shot, and..." She blinked furiously and didn't say any more.

Another foreign emotion bloomed in Jack: pity. "So, this... John Smith... is he dead, then?"

The Native American shook her head. "No, but... I don't know... he went back to England to heal but I haven't heard from him since. For all I know, he could be." She pressed her palms to her eyes. "And I've lost... oh, I've lost the compass he gave to me. I've been looking for days but I haven't found it."

Jack, though still full of rum, was sharp enough to read between the lines of her story. She had loved this John and was clearly devastated by the loss of him and his compass. _She's so brave, trying not to show it._ That thought startled him, and he shook his head to clear it out. Thankfully, Pocahontas' head was still down and she didn't see. She looked so lost, standing there like that. _If only I could help._

An idea struck Jack just then. "Come here, love." Pocahontas looked up, her eyes glistening and confused. Jack held up his left arm and gestured it, "Come on, let me show you something." She stepped toward him warily, as his right hand dove into his jacket pocket. His arm fell around her slim shoulders as his opposite hand flipped open a small square something...

"A compass!" Pocahontas gasped.

"That's right, love." He looked down at her, but her attention was fixed upon the compass. "Every knowledgable sea-goer has one of these beauties in his pocket. But let me tell you a secret: this is no ordinary compass." Pocahontas turned her puzzled eyes at him. "This compass," he looked at it, then back at her, "doesn't point north. It points to the thing you want most. To the north of your heart, if you will. Here."

Jacks' left hand let go of her shoulder to grasp both of her hands. Lifting them up, he pressed the compass into her small fingers. "You need a bit of direction, my dear." Pocahontas looked up at him again, a mixture of reluctance, thanks, and wonder on her face. Jack, who wasn't used to being so compassionate, turned and walked away without another word.

...

Next chapter is where the fun begins ;D It'll be up soon! R&R please!


	6. Chapter 6

Fun chapter, as promised ;D Enjoy!

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Chapter 6

Pocahontas stood in the forest examining Jacks' compass for a long time. It was the same basic thing as Johns', yet it was so different. It was square, not round, with a lid that flipped open and closed. She supposed it was a little like Jack himself - closed and complicated. John was simple and straightforward. She opened Jacks' compass and examined the N that indicated north. "It points to the thing you want most. The north of your heart," he had said.

It was true that her heart had felt lost ever since John left. But how was she supposed to trust Jack? Was this some sort of trick? There had been an honesty to his demeanor that Pocahontas was certain was uncharacteristic. How could she tell if he was lying? Who was to say he wasn't a good actor? For all she knew, it was just a broken compass and he could be off laughing at her right now.

A gentle breeze picked up just then, blowing a lock of hair into Pocahontas' face. She tossed it out of her eyes absently, but it came straight back. Annoyed, she took it and firmly tucked it behind her ear. The breeze was not to be foiled, and picked up. It felt like it was trying to push her somewhere. She took the hint, closed Jacks' compass, and started walking in the direction it was blowing.

After a few minutes of walking, Pocahontas found herself in a very familiar place. She gaped in astonishment at the veiw before her. The wind had brought her to the cliff where she had watched the sun set every night for the past few months. She stepped forward and stood on the edge. The ocean streched before her, a calm blue. She had come here every night seeking guidance. It was only fitting that she should receive it here now.

That is, if Jack was telling the truth.

Feeling apprehensive, Pocahontas opened the compass. The needle spun and spun as if indecision. Looking at it made her dizzy. Finally, it stopped. Pocahontas stared disbelievingly at it. She looked up in the direction it indicated. _It can't be._ She checked the compass again, making sure she saw it right. There was no way it could be right, but it didn't feel wrong either.

She looked up again, out to sea. _It worked._ She could feel it was correct. The thing she wanted most - the man she hungered to see - was over that ocean. The wind came up behind her again, nudging her to the east, towards the water.

_Okay, I know where I have to go... but how do I get there?_

An early autumn leaf, still green but tinged with red around the edges, glided past Pocahontas. It sailed up, over her head, and cartwheeled in front of her face. The dying wind took it down, down over the cliff. The young woman's eyes followed it as it fell. The pendulous motion swung it back and forth, one moment over the water, the next over a black ship anchored a short way from the shore.

The solution clicked in Pocahontas' brain. She turned and ran down to the village. Her heart pounded with the impossibility of what she was about to do.

...

"Father!" Pocahontas gasped, bursting into their wigwam, "Father!"

He was there eating his lunch, sitting cross-legged on the floor. As soon as he saw Pocahontas, he set the bowl down and looked up at her with concern, "What is it, my daughter?"

"Father," Pocahontas leaned on the doorframe and panted, still exhausted from her run, "I have something to tell you."

"Sit then, daughter, and we will talk," he patted the ground next to him. "Are you hurt?" He asked in alarm, for she had collapsed on the floor.

"No, no... I'm not hurt..." She took deep breaths to steady her heartbeat as well as her nerves. The cheif waited patiently for her to recover.

"I... I have to leave," Pocahontas said in a rush, "You know how I loved John, Father. It hurt me so when he left, though I knew he had to. I go through life as I did before, but I'm so unhappy without him. The same way you were unhappy when Mother died." Her fathers' face hardened and she wondered if perhaps she had gone too far. But she continued, "I love you, Father, but my path leads to John. I have to go to him."

For a long while, Father said nothing. Pocahontas squirmed inwardly, the silence was unbearable. Finally he spoke, "As much as it pains me to say so, then you must go. I know the pain you speak of. It's unbearable for me to watch you struggle with it, too. If you feel this is the right path, then I will not stop you. I don't think I could, anyway," he suddenly smiled, "You were always so independent, just like your mother." He pulled her into a warm embrace, "I love you, my daughter."

Relief surged through Pocahontas as she hugged him back. Though she probably would have gone anyway without her fathers' blessing, she wouldn't have felt right. "I love you too, Father. Thank you."

...

Ten minutes later, Pocahontas was sprinting down the beach towards the black ship. Some of the crew was ashore, bustling around gathering supplies for their next journey. Luckily, Jack was among them, overseeing their activity. "Jack!" She called. He turned and widened his eyes at her as she skidded to a stop before him.

"Well, well," he said lazily, "What seems to be the problem, darling?"

"Jack, you were right," Pocahontas breathed, "Your compass... it really does work!"

"You didn't believe me?" He looked genuinely surprised.

"Of course not... You said so yourself last night never to trust a pirate," she said slyly, remembering a conversation she'd overheard between him and a couple of warriors at the feast.

Jack squinted at her, "I suppose you've got a point. Did you discover what you wanted most, then?"

"Yes! Well, no... not really. I knew what I wanted but I needed that little push. Anyway, I wanted to give you this back," she held out the compass, "and ask you a question."

"All right then, love, what's your question?" Jack took his compass and placed it in his pocket.

"When you cast off, where will you be going?"

"England, I suppose. If we can pick up some goods right there at the source, we'll be able to pawn them off at an exceptional price back home in the Caribbean. Why do you ask?"

Pocahontas grinned, because he had told her exactly what she wanted to hear, "I was wondering if you had room on that big ship for one more person."

...

Keep posted for Chapter 7! Please review!


	7. Chapter 7

I'm SO, SO, SO SORRY! Every time I sat down to write this, I ended up hangin' with my friends... well, it's summer, nothing ever goes as planned xD Please enjoy, and please don't hate me. D=

...

Chapter 7

A rather disgruntled Jack stood at the _Black Pearls' _tiller. Everything from the sun in his face to the way the crew was swabbing the deck annoyed him today. The frown on his face was highly unusual, and the men realized it and did their best to avoid him.

Not Pocahontas, though. They had set sail from the New World only two weeks ago, and already he was sick of her. She turned out to be a bright little thing, hurrying up and down the ship looking at and touching everything, as if touching the objects would make her understand them. Her questions never ended. There were times when she would simply sit on the rail and stare at the ocean they glided across. These moments were rare; otherwise, she talked Jacks' ear off.

Thankfully, at the moment, she was up in the crows' nest with Cotton. Jack glanced up at the odd pair. Sure enough, she was chattering at him, and he was smiling and nodding, obviously hanging on to her every word. The crew was naturally enchanted by her, once they had been assured by Jack that having her aboard would not bring them bad luck. Gibbs had not helped this matter at all: he threw a right little tantrum when he found out that Pocahontas would be accompanying them. Jack won in the end though, and Gibbs contented himself to making remarks belowdecks at dinner about their certain doom now that she was aboard. These outbursts were becoming less and less frequent - it seemed Gibbs was warming up to her as well. Contrary to Gibbs' belief, Pocahontas seemed to be a good luck charm because the winds had favored the _Pearl_ nearly every day since they had set sail. _If this keeps up, we'll be there in no time_, Jack thought.

A little voice in the back of Jacks' mind remarked often that Pocahontas was as pretty as she was annoying. Jack tried to ignore the thought whenever it came up, but it was getting harder. The voice was right, but Jack, for some odd reason, restrained himself from pursuing her. He felt somehow that seducing her on their way to reclaim her true love would corrupt her moral compass. Her innocence and morality was what he liked best about her. He would hate to ruin her, which scared him. Ruining women was what Jack did best.

That didn't stop him from being irritated with her, though.

A sudden jolt shuddered the _Pearl_. _Must've hit something_, Jack thought uneasily, for they were much too far out to have hit a reef. A second bump rocked the whole ship. The crew below shouted a collective "Woah!" as they either went tumbling or grabbed hold of something. Even Jack had to loop his arm through the wheel to stay upright. He heard an indignant sqwak from above and he looked up. Both Cotton and Pocahontas were clinging to the side of the crows' nest. The parrot flapped his wings in annoyance.

"Jack," Pocahontas called, "What was -"

Her question was cut off by a third and final massive shudder. Everyone was prepared this time and hung onto whatever they had grabbed earlier. A couple of nasty ideas raced through Jacks' head, and he hoped none of them were true. When the ship righted itself again, all was deathly quiet for a second, nerves strung out. Then, a strange combination of a caw and a scream reached Jacks' pricked ears. His eyes darted upward.

"Jack!" Pocahontas cried. He followed her pointing finger down the port side and out to sea... which was frothing ominously...

A large green something broke through the film of bubbles. A pair of golden eyes with pupils like a cats' appeared next, then a snout ending in a pair of nostrils, then a mouth from which hung curved fangs...

"Sea serpent!" Someone on deck yelled, and indeed it was. After its' head came its' scaly body. Spikes protruded from its' back, growing farther apart as the body lengthened. Jack thought it a miracle that the _Pearl_ hadn't been impaled on one. The monster rose higher and higher, until it was level with the crows' nest, until it stared threateningly down at them all. No one moved for a breathless moment while men and beast sized each other up.

"Gibbs," Jack muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "We're going to need the cannons."

Gibbs shouted, "Ready the cannons!" at the same time the serpent roared. Though it drowned Gibbs' voice out, the crew got the general idea. Half of those on deck leaped below to load the cannons. The other half scrambled up the mast to take the wind out of the sails and raced to drop anchor.

"Jack," he jumped; the voice was right behind him. He turned and met Pocahontas' wide, frightened eyes. "What are you doing? Why are you loading the cannons?"

"The cannons are being loaded to kill this here beastie." Jack jerked a thumb towards said beastie, who roared again insistently.

Pocahontas' mouth opened in shock, "Kill it?"

"Oh come on, darling, with these things it's kill or get eaten."

She grabbed his sleeve and pleaded, "No, Jack, don't, it's not even attacking us, please, it's just being defensive because we ran into it -"

"FIRE!" Gibbs bellowed.

"NO!" screamed Pocahontas, but it was too late. The cannons blasted out all other sound.

The cannons met their mark. The serpent screeched in agony as the ammo buried into its' flesh. Blood gushed from its' wounds, staining the blue of the sea with vivid red. The impact jerked the monsters' head back. It closed its' eyes against the pain. When it opened them, it looked at the _Pearl_ with a new contempt.

"Oh, no," Pocahontas chanted next to Jack, "Oh no, oh no, oh no..."

The massive head of the serpent dived at the Pearl. The men on board screamed and scattered as that mouth gouged out a hole in the railing. The wood splintered between its' teeth and rained back down on the deck. It roared in their faces and drew its' head back, preparing for another blow.

It hadn't gone far before the cry of "FIRE!" sounded again, and some of the cannonballs hit it in the face. Blood splattered on the deck as the serpent shook its' head back and forth, roaring its' anger and hurt.

"Aim for the brain!" They heard Gibbs order the crew.

"No! Jack, please, we can't kill it!" Pocahontas begged, clutching his arm tighter. He looked at her face, twisted with fright and pity for the beast.

"We have to now," Jacks' voice was tight, "If we don't, it'll follow us all the way to England, taking huge chunks out of my ship as we go. Savvy?" Even as he said it, the serpent had struck the ship again and another round had been fired.

"But... it's in pain..." The serpent yowled again, as if it heard her and was trying to prove her case.

"I know that," Jack said a bit impatiently, "But it's too late to leave it alone now." He saw an opening and went for it, "Besides, if it's in so much pain, wouldn't it be kinder to kill it? Put it out of it's misery, like?"

Pocahontas' lips pursed as the serpent roared for a final time. Jack turned to watch. One of the cannonballs had struck it between the eyes. It flailed in the throes of death, the great length of its' body coiling and uncoiling for miles around, throwing water everywhere. The men cheered at their victory. The anchor was raised and the ship cast off again. Plans to repair the rail were already being made. Jack turned again, meaning to apologize to Pocahontas, but the snap of his cabin door closing told him quite enough.

...

Again, I'm so sorry for leaving this for so long. I wasn't too sure how to write an adventurey chapter like this, what'd you think? Leave a review and let me know! =D I'll try to get Chapter 8 up a lot faster.


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry again! I had to think about where I wanted this chapter to go =P Enjoy!

...

Chapter 8

Pocahontas sat on the bed in Jacks' cabin, which was currently serving as her bedroom, staring moodily out the window at the night ocean. She had not lit any candles, so the only light came from the glint of the full moon on the water. Her arms were wrapped around her legs again. The curtain of her hair camoflauged perfectly with the black of the window behind her. She sighed deeply, mourning for the sea serpent. There had been no reason to kill it, not unless it had attacked them first. Upset as she was that the creature had been killed, she knew Jack had been right. The _Pearl_ had been lucky she hadn't sustained any more damage. Imagine what it would have done if it had pursued them! Try as she might to justify the slaughter, Pocahontas still thought it was cruel and unnessecary.

The door squeaked open and closed. A low curse reached her ears as her visitor stumbled into what sounded like one of the dining chairs. She smiled slightly, but her smile fell as quickly as it had appeared.

"Why are you sitting in the dark, love?" Jack asked, lighting the candle in the holder that hung from the post at the foot of the bed. Pocahontas looked up at his smiling face as he shook the flame off the match. The smile faded as he lowered himself down on the bed next to that post. By the time he was sitting, he was eyeing her with concern. It was the first time in a while that he had shown her any sort of emotion like that. It made her feel slightly embarrassed. She looked away, out the window again. He persisted, "What's wrong? You've been sulking in here all day."

"Nothing's wrong," she said without looking at him.

"A likely story." Unfortunately, now that the lantern was lit, she saw his grin reflected in the window instead of the calm ocean outside. "Come on. Is it because of that beastie we killed earlier today? Hm?"

"There was no reason to kill it." Pocahontas turned back to him. "If it had attacked us first, it would have been in self-defense. But it didn't want to fight, it was just trying to scare us away because we invaded its' territory."

"If it had attacked us first, who's to say it wouldn't have sunk us?" Jack countered. "Would you be as upset? Would we even be sitting here discussing it?"

Pocahontas shrugged, "Maybe, maybe not. And yes, I would still be upset... just not as much. It was slaughter and it was wrong, what you did today."

Jack was silent for a moment, looking at her. "It upset you that much, did it?" When Pocahontas nodded, he replied, "All right. I'm sorry. I was only doing what I thought was appropriate at the time. From now on, I'll let the beastie try to eat me before I fire the cannons."

Pocahontas giggled, "Thank you, Jack." They sat in silence for a while, surverying each other. Pocahontas wondered what he was thinking about. It was hard to tell with him. Jack was secretive, an enigma, whereas John was an open book. They were different as night and day, this pirate and the man she loved. Still, Pocahontas felt a bond growing between her and Jack. Her initial distrust in him had vanished after the day he had let her borrow his compass. Though she had remained wary of any dishonesty since then, nothing had happened, and she gradually started letting her guard down. Jack was hard to understand, and abrasive at times, but then sometimes he would do something kind for her out of the blue - like right now.

As if he sensed the turn her thoughts had taken, Jack asked, "I'm a sight different from your John Smith, huh?"

Pocahontas nodded, "Yes... but you do have one thing in common." Jack looked at her quizzically, and she reached out with her right hand and stroked his face. "You're a good man, Jack Sparrow. You and John Smith both."

Jacks' eyes closed, as if letting her words wash over him. His hand reached up and clasped hers, which still rested on his cheek. He gave it a small squeeze and whispered, "I'm not as good as you might think, love." He opened his eyes and abrubtly stood up, dropping her hand. Without one glance at her, he strode out of the cabin and banged the door shut behind him. Pocahontas stared after him, her mouth agape. The flickering light from the candle played shadows across her face. After a moment she blew it out and lay down to try to sleep despite the strange feeling of bereftness.

...

The next couple of weeks aboard the _Black Pearl_ passed without incident. Most days were sunny and clear, some overcast and rainy, though she was lucky enough to avoid any storms. The crew was generally in good spirits. A few tussles erupted over card games and valuables filched by Cottons' thieving parrot, but no one was seriously hurt. The damaged rail from the battle with the sea serpent had been patched up the best it could. A proper repair would have to wait until they docked in London. Until then, the men were careful to avoid the spot, lest a fellow crewmember sneak up on him and push him overboard through the patchwork rail.

Jack and Pocahontas had been distant with each other ever since that night in the cabin. They didn't avoid each other - the confines of the _Pearl_ made that impossible - but neither did they seek each other out. Pocahontas, for her part, was confused. She didn't understand what made Jack run from the cabin. She agonized over whether or not it was something she had done or said. The only thing she could think of was her mention of John. Perhaps in comparing him to Jack, she had insulted the proud pirate. She felt that she should apologize, but it seemed an awkward thing to apologize for.

Then there was that feeling of abandonment and rejection after he left. Pocahontas couldn't puzzle that out, either. It felt too much like a memory from her childhood: the time she was six and had confessed her affection for her eight-year-old friend Maracah to him. He had managed not to laugh in her face, but she'd later overheard him guffawing about it with his friends. The strange stew of emotions she felt now were remniscent of that time. She told herself firmly that these were two completely different situations. She liked Jack, yes, but he was her friend. He didn't mean to her what John meant to her at all. While that was certainly true, she couldn't help feeling that Jack was starting to feel like more than a friend.

One foggy afternoon found Pocahontas in Jacks' company. Her boredom had lately driven her down to the kitchen, where the cook was greatful for her enthusiastic help. She had been busy that morning helping him prepare a hot supper for the men working on deck in the damp chill. Cook insisted after a few hours that Pocahontas take a break, so she took some hot cider up to Jack, who had been at the wheel all day. She stood next to him as he sipped his drink, his right hand still on the wheel.

"It's so quiet," she murmered to no one in particular, surveying the swirling gray fog. "It feels like it swallows up noise." Indeed, what little racket the crew was making seemed to come from miles away.

"Aye," Jack agreed, taking another sip from his mug. "Swallows up time, too. With fog this thick, you've got to go slowly, unless you want to run into another ship. Or another sea serpent." He looked at her and grinned.

"It was a clear day and you still couldn't see it." Pocahontas smiled back, to let him know she was joking. "Maybe you're just a poor navigator, Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Who was in the crows' nest that day? Maybe you and Cotton were too busy making eyes at each other to spot the beastie, eh?" He turned his head slightly to watch where he was steering and raised the mug to his lips to drink again, still smiling.

"Jack!" Pocahontas exclaimed, scandalized. She burst out laughing. "Me and _Cotton_? You're crazy! Either that or jealous." A look of shock passed across Jacks' profile, the mug nearly touching his lips. Pocahontas kicked herself. This was the most they had talked in days, and she had to go and ruin it with that remark. She had meant it as a joke, but she hadn't thought of the weight of that phrase, particularly after what had happened. _Stupid!_ she berated herself.

"Me? Jealous of Cotton? Rediculous. What's there to be jealous of?" There was a bitterness in the way Jack scoffed. Scowling, he paused to gulp at the cider.

"Jack, I -" Pocahontas began beseechingly.

"Nevermind." He said shortly.

"But -"

"I said nevermind. Here," he thrust the now-empty mug into her arms, "I'm finished. Thank you." He didn't look at her, but out into the fog as if he could see something unpleasant through it.

Pocahontas recognized the clear dismissal, but she wanted to stay and make amends for the night in the cabin. She needed to know that it wasn't her fault. But she also knew there was nothing left for her to do but turn and make her way back down to the kitchens. To her surprise and frustration, tears stung the back of her eyes. She pushed them back as she descended the stairs.

"Ship on the starboard side!" called the man from the crows' nest. Pocahontas, who had just opened the trapdoor to go belowdecks, snapped her head up to look. It was so hard to see through the fog... she flung herself at the rail as the crew stopped the ship. She squinted as she clung to the worn, damp wood. A faint light shone feebly through the mist. As she looked, more lights appeared, outlining the dark sillouhette of a ship. It was coming at them from the south. It looked for an awful moment as though it would collide with the _Pearl_. Almost at the last second, the strange ship swiveled around so she faced west, back the way the _Pearl_ had come. The two ships floated 10 tense yards apart.

Suddenly, a large something rose up from the other ship, resting on their rail. It then fell and came down at Pocahontas. She gasped and sprang backwards, the mug dropping from her hand. A wooden plank rested on the rail in the spot she had been standing seconds before. By now, most of the crew had dropped whatever they had been doing and were gathered on deck, examining the visiting ship. They all watched in amazement as four more planks, two on each side of the first, planted themselves on the _Pearls'_ railing. Men balanced on the planks, walking over from the other ship to leap down on the _Pearls'_ deck. The two parties eyed each other with caution, some with hostility, though no one moved. The tension was as thick as the fog.

The sound of another pair of feet walking over one of the planks rang out, clear and somehow ominous. The crew of the _Pearl_ shrunk back a little, while their visitors grinned menacingly. A man wearing a big, feathered hat drawn down over his face materialized out of the fog. His boots thumped down the middle plank and landed somewhat heavily on deck. He drew himself up to his full height, slowly revealing a white beard, a long, weather-worn face, and cold hazel eyes. Several of the crew gasped.

"Barbossa!" Jack exclaimed. Pocahontas glanced up at him, where he still stood at the Pearls' wheel. It was perhaps the first time she had seen him genuinely surprised... and was that fear on his face, too?

"That's right, Jack," Barbossa called up to him, in a tone that might have implied they were sitting down for drinks. Jack, and several of the crew, looked as though they couldn't believe their eyes. "I've come to take back what's rightly mine... that'd be the _Pearl_, see. However, I think we ought to make a trade. To make sure you play fair. Something you hold dear versus something I hold dear... which would be the _Pearl_, o'course. So what'll it be, Jack? What do you prize above all else?" His unfeeling eyes traveled down the line of the crew before him, as if he could read the answer from one of their minds. They then rested on Pocahontas, who stood directly in front of him. He grinned, a frighteningly feral gesture.

"I think she'll do, won't she?" His men laughed coldly. Barbossa snapped his fingers. Two of them walked forward to try to seize Pocahontas. Her friends pushed her behind them and formed a wall in front of her. Barbossa just laughed and gestured to the rest of his crew. The two masses crashed against each other. Pocahontas stumbled back, confused and frightened at all the fighting. She tripped over a coil of rope and fell backwards into a pair of arms. At first, she thought it might be one of her comrades, but then a hand clapped itself over her mouth. Her eyes widened and she started to fight and kick, but the arms held both of hers tight behind her back.

"Jack!" She tried to scream, but it did no good; the hand on her mouth caught the sound. The man was dragging her up and across the chaotic deck to the planks. Still Pocahontas fought, trying to call out, but still to no avail as he carried her over to oblivion.

...

Wow, that was a long one. xD Please review and look out for Chapter 9!

P.S. To find the website I got Maracahs' name from, search wicocomico-indian-nation . com, then click "Dictionary" on the left hand side. It was the only one I really liked... it has a nice ring to it, don't you think? =P


	9. Chapter 9

I'm sorry, again. I feel like every single chapter I'm apologizing xD But I know I'm bad D= Anyway, one of my reviewers had a good question. They asked when this story was set. I meant for it to be set after _Pocahontas_ (obviously) and after _Curse of the Black Pearl_, because Jack has the _Pearl_ back and they were all surprised to see Barbossa 'cuz they all thought he was dead. I think what they were confused upon was that I wrote Barbossa had white hair. That was totally my bad, I wrote his hair color from my faulty memory and didn't bother to check. So please disregard that. Enjoy!

...

Chapter 9

Jack leaned on the _Pearls'_ wheel, his left hand gripping a handle, the other balled up in a fist that pressed itself to his forehead. _She's gone_, was all the pirate could think, _she's gone. _What he was feeling now was comparable to the time Barbossa had marooned him on that island, watching him sail away with the _Pearl..._ but worse, so much worse. He felt like a failure for not protecting Pocahontas against Barbossas' cruelty. As much as he loved his ship and the open sea, Jack finally admitted to himself that he loved Pocahontas just as much.

Gibbs walked up to his captain. "Jack?" he asked nervously.

Jack gave no indication of hearing him.

"Jack." Gibbs said, firmer. "What do you propose we do?"

"Do? 'Bout what?" Jack asked flatly.

"The new damage to the _Pearl._ The injured men. Barbossa. Pocahontas." Gibbs' voice got quieter as he went on, so that he whispered her name.

Jack didn't answer at first. He thought about what he might have done if it had been any other woman but Pocahontas. To tell the truth, he probably wouldn't care. But it _was_ Pocahontas. And he knew that he would go to the ends of the earth to rescue her. He took a deep, shuddering breath and straightened up. His left hand remained on the Pearls' wheel while his right darted into his jacket pocket. He took the compass out and flipped it open, as he had done so many other times before. This time, the needle swung around once and decisively pointed in one direction – north. Jack looked up into the fog, and the intensity of his gaze could have pierced a path through it.

"We're going after her."

...

Pocahontas sat shivering in Barbossas' cabin. She had no idea where they were going, but it was getting colder the farther they went. It didn't help that she was nearly paralyzed with fear, either.

The door slammed open, making her jump. Barbossa strode smiling into the room, bringing a draft of freezing air with him. He looked down at her trembling form on the window seat and his smile widened.

"There are blankets there, ya know," he said in a terrible parody of compassion, "so ya don't freeze in your pretty skin." Said skin crawled, worsening her goosebumps. She shook her head and scooted away from him towards the window. She peered out of it, pretending that the fog was the most interesting landscape she'd seen. No way would she accept what he called charity. It gave her the creeps.

The old man chuckled. "You'll be needin' 'em before long, darlin'." _Why_ did he insist on calling her that? It reminded her of Jack… and she wondered again when he would come to rescue her, if he was coming at all. "Mighty cold where we be goin'." Barbossa continued, sounding cheerful.

"Where would that be?" Pocahontas blurted, looking up at him. She had never spoken to him before now, but the need for information was too strong for her to keep in the question.

How much bigger could that smile get? "To the top of the world," he said enigmatically, and left her alone to shiver and puzzle over his answer.

...

I'm a horrible tease, please don't kill me. *ducks to avoid heavy flying objects* I PROMISE I won't leave it so long this time. Thank you all so, so much for being this patient with me. Stay tuned!


	10. Chapter 10

For some reason, I had a ton of fun writing this chapter xD Even if I did feel like Barbossa's slipping out of character D= Oh well, enjoy anyway xD

P.S. Pretend for the sake of this chapter that fireplaces existed on pirate ships. Kthanks.

...

Chapter 10

Barbossa didn't explain himself until three nights later. By that time, Pocahontas was forced to accept the blankets provided out of what her captor called compassion. She knew she would get sick if she didn't, but she still felt disgusted as she wrapped the wool around her. Accepting the blankets meant that she accepted that she was totally at Barbossas' control – and that Jack wasn't coming for her.

She was left pretty much alone, except when some of the crew would deliver foul food and water from the kitchen, vile smiles on their faces. She hardly touched those, either. Barbossa was clearly making a half-hearted effort to keep her alive, but why?

That night, the fog cleared up. Pocahontas sat in her window seat, welcoming the stars back. Strange white blocks floated by. It was now so cold she had been obliged to light a fire in the cabin, though she still kept a blanket. The flickering warmth made her sleepy.

An icy chill creeping across her cheek woke her at once. She snapped her head up to see two of the crewmembers, Pintell and Ragetti, walk into the room. Ragetti held something concealed behind his back.

"The Captain wishes you dine with him tonight," he said. "And wear this." He revealed a light blue dress, nothing at all like what she was accustomed to.

"Why?" she tore her eyes away from the dress to look at him. "Can't I wear what I'm wearing now?"

"It's either this, or naked with the crew." Pintell leered.

She needed no deliberation. She snatched the dress out of Ragettis' filthy hands. They left, faces fallen. It took a while for her to figure out the yards of fabric and rows of buttons, but eventually she managed to get the dress on more or less the right way. When she was finished, she opened the door and stepped into the dining room – unlike Jacks' cabin on the _Pearl_, Barbossas' cabin was comprised of two rooms: one for sleeping and one for eating.

The table was laid for two, but with so much food that it might have been meant for four or more. Barbossa sat at the head, opposite the door. The flickering light from the fireplace lent his craggy face an eerier quality than usual. He stood and smiled in clearly what he thought was a gentlemanly manner. He pulled out the chair next to him, "Sit, my dear." She crossed the room and sat, suppressing a shudder. He settled back in his chair as one of the crew materialized beside her and poured her a glass of red wine. Another did the same for Barbossa. They filled the china plates, and left the cabin. Barbossa started eating with relish, but Pocahontas found herself picking at her food. Everything looked – and certainly smelled – delicious, but she was wary of –

"It's not poisoned, m'dear, if that's what you be thinkin'," Barbossa looked up from his chicken, amusement in his cold eyes. "Would I touch a bite if it were?" For some reason, that obscurely comforted her, and she picked up her fork again.

For a while, they ate in silence. The pirate was totally relaxed, and the Native American his antithesis, edgy and coiled up tight. She was thirsty but didn't reach for the wine. Instinctively, she wanted her racing mind all together.

"I s'pose you're wonderin' why we're sittin' down to a meal like this, eh?" Barbossa asked, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands behind his head. His plate had been cleaned, while hers was still half-full; not out of a lack of hunger, but because her insides were clenched with tension. When she nodded, he answered, "Well, let it not be said that Captain Barbossa runs an uncivilized ship! Also, I thought that dress might go well with that necklace o' yours." Her hand flew to her neck and she clutched the shells instinctively. It had been her mothers' most precious possession, and that made it special to Pocahontas, too.

Barbossa chuckled. "I'm not out fer your necklace, girl, keep it."

"Then what do you want?" Again, the question was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

"To be a god." He laughed at the astonished look on her face. He got up and walked to the window, examining the night ocean gliding by with his hands behind his back.

"When Jack shot me after the curse was lifted," he continued, "I died, in a way. The darkness surrounded me, I saw the light at the end o' the tunnel. I stepped towards it but somethin' stood in my way. Turns out the somethin' was a god by the name o' Loki. He told me, 'I can give you life again, immortal life, without the torture of a curse.'"

Pocahontas gasped a little. She had never heard of this Loki, but she knew that gods, whether or not they were hers, weren't to be messed with.

"'How?' says I. This god needed a favor o' sorts. There's this thing called Ragnarok, seems like it's comin' up soon. This ship, Naglfar, needs to be brought back to its' rightful owners, which would be the giants. But there's a deadline, see. I had to find the ship and return it to the giants' Northern homeland, 'by the time Hati devoured the moon and the skies lit blue,' he told me. In exchange for Naglfar, he would grant me the _Pearl_, which was rightfully mine to begin with, and the powers of the ocean. I would be immortal, like a god, lording over the ocean like the dread pirate I already am. I told him I would, and we shook on it, and, well," Barbossa turned from the window to look at her, "Here I am."

"What," Pocahontas asked slowly, "exactly, is Ragnarok?"

"Somethin' about the end of the world." He smirked at her.

"But what would be the point of having divine power if the world's just going to end? There wouldn't be anything left."

"See, that's where you're wrong, m'dear. As a god, I'll have the power to endure, create my own world. Imagine! All the gold in the universe, for my takin'! And you, as my queen. Ruling the empty world together."

Pocahontas couldn't leap up, per say, due to the heavy dress, but she could stand up rather fast. The chair fell with a clatter behind her. "You're crazy," she breathed, her heart pounding.

"Ar, I thought you'd say somethin' like that," Barbossa sighed. "Perhaps in time you'll learn to accept your fate. Accept me." The only thing Pocahontas could do in reply was shake her head as her eyes filled with tears. She fled into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

...

I'm sorry for the cliche "we shall rule together" thing, but Barbossa has to get lonely sometimes too, doesn't he? =P Thanks for reading! Next chapter's on the way!


	11. Chapter 11

I thought you guys might need a break after that last chapter... I sure did! xD Enjoy!

...

Chapter 11

The freezing fog enveloped Jack in a perverse embrace. He shivered. The _Pearl_ wasn't equipped for a journey like this one. His men barely had enough clothes to keep warm. Every day Jack heard their coughs and sniffles and wondered again if this whole chase was futile. But then he remembered her face and steeled himself, for he knew that they were all doing the same without one complaint among them.

…

Three blankets and a fire were required to keep Pocahontas warm now, yet she still shivered. What Barbossa had told her was more chilling than any Northern cold. _He's crazy, he's crazy_, she kept thinking. Gods were beings, yes, but beings in the spirit and not the physical world. Giants were the monsters of tales told to scare children, definitely not real. Yet… Barbossa seemed like he was being totally honest with her. Maybe his madness was so complete, he really did believe his own story.

What Pocahontas really couldn't believe was how much she'd been through in the past couple of months. She had left to reunite herself with her true love, yet had fallen in love with a pirate. She had been kidnapped by a dread pirate who wanted to become a god to serve his own selfish ends, and make her rule alongside him, whether or not it was all in his head. Jack, out of spite perhaps, wasn't coming for her and John Smith would never know her fate. _I left home to follow my path to John, and now I'll never see him again._ At that thought her self-control broke, and she curled closer to herself in the blankets and gave herself up to weeping.

The cabin door opened, footsteps approached. Pocahontas peered up through the film of hair and tears streaked across her face at Barbossa. He was holding a bundle of fur in his arms.

"Better put these on, dear," he said, dropping them onto the window seat next to her. "You be goin' topside today."

"Why?" Pocahontas reached for the fur – anything to add extra warmth at this point.

He grinned, "My immortality awaits." He strode out of the cabin again.

Pocahontas froze mid-reach. This was it. The day she would come face-to-face with gods – or be left to die in an icy grave.

...

Next chapter will be very long. Very long. xD But well worth it, I promise! Catch ya laterz!


	12. Chapter 12

I wrote like all of this today. Literally. Took me all day. So you better enjoy it xDD

...

Chapter 12

Not only a fur overcoat was provided, but also leggings, a pair of gloves, and boots with two pairs of wool socks rolled up inside. Pocahontas pulled on all of it, her soul colder with fear than it had ever been before. She fixed the faces of John Smith and Jack Sparrow in her mind as best as she could. She knew that memory would be the only way she would be able to see them again.

The cold slammed into her when she opened the cabin door. She gasped. This was nothing like the winters at home. This kind of cold was hostile and biting. Clumsily, on account of the bulky gloves, she parted her hair in the back and brought it forward so it hung on both sides of her face. She hastily pulled the hood up over her head and felt a little warmer. Moving to the rail, she peered up at the moon through the fur in the hood. It was full, bigger than usual. It seemed they had pulled into a natural bay. All around the ship was a wasteland of ice. The moon threw sparkles on it, lighting it up from within. It was beautiful, but the fear within Pocahontas drowned out any pleasure at the scenery.

"That fur coat becomes ye, darlin'," Barbossas' voice behind her made her jump and turn. He too was dressed in fur. One of his gloved hands made to rest on her shoulder, but she wrenched her body away before he could touch her. He sighed as if in resignation and beckoned to his crew. A rope ladder was thrown over the starboard side of the ship. A few of the crew climbed down, then Barbossa signaled for Pocahontas to do the same.

A light powder of windblown ice, almost like snow, covered the surface of the frozen world. It crunched underneath Pocahontas' boots when she hopped off the ladder. Barbossa followed after, and gestured again for the crew and Pocahontas to follow. They struck out north, furs silhouetted against the silver ice and black star-studded night sky. They had gone maybe a mile – it was hard to judge distance against such a featureless landscape – before their captain called a halt.

Barbossa walked forward a little more, away from his crew. When he stopped, he raised his hands to the full moon and shouted words in a strange language. Pocahontas looked around, confused. This spot looked like every other place here – flat, white, and cold. _This can't be the home of the giants_, she thought, _it's too… ordinary. _A flicker of hope that maybe this wasn't real flared through her chest.

Even as she thought it, the ice beneath Barbossas' feet cracked. The fissure wasn't large, but it made a noise like a gunshot, and she flinched. _It can't be_, she told herself incredulously, _the ice is much too thick to break! _Yet it had.

Why was the ground losing its' gleam? Had a cloud covered the moon? No, a cloud wouldn't make a ruddy orange glow like that. Pocahontas looked up at the sky and instantly realized what was happening: a lunar eclipse. What had the god said to Barbossa? "When Hati devoured the moon and the skies lit blue." As if summoned by her memory, curtains of mint green, robins' egg blue, and the deep violet of a sunset shimmered into place among the stars. The Native American had never seen anything so beautiful, and she gaped at the phenomenon for a moment.

Something in her peripheral vision caught her eye. She looked down and nearly screamed. A sickly green, glowing face was glaring up at her from between her feet. Perhaps it was just a distorted illusion from the ice, but that face looked larger than life. As she stared, she saw more faces appear, each one subtly different than the last, some even looking female. They moved slowly and blinked a lot, as if they were just waking up.

A bright orange light, brighter even than the moon before the eclipse, blinded Pocahontas. She shielded her eyes with her gloved hand. She squinted, trying to find the source. Across the icy field, in front of where Barbossa stood, was a shifting, disjointed figure that was the source of the light. The only thing Pocahontas' sharp eyes could really make out was the flaming red hair.

_It's true_, she realized. _Barbossa was telling the truth._ Fear froze her, then stole the strength from her legs. Her knees hit the cracking ice without any pain, for she could feel nothing except the hopeless despair that gripped her soul. _This is the end._

A roar made her turn around. Men were sprinting towards them from a burning ship. How strange, but as they got closer, she thought she recognized some of the men from the _Black Pearl._ _I must be hallucinating, _Pocahontas thought in wonder,_ or dying._ But the visions persisted, and another appeared – the _Pearl_ beside the flaming _Naglfar._ It was them; Jack had come! Her relief was quickly drowned in the realization that even though Jack was here, it was too late. Barbossa was conversing with Loki and the giants awakening from their freezing slumber. Who could challenge a god and even hope to be the victor?

Above the _Pearls'_ crew, another god-light flashed into existence. A voice big as a mountain boomed down upon them all, speaking the language Barbossa had chanted to the moon. Barbossa and Loki looked up in alarm. The second god – the voice was undoubtedly male – swooped down upon Loki in a clash of blue on orange. Barbossa threw up his arms in front of his eyes and stumbled backwards. His foot caught on a widening crack in the ice and he stumbled. A hand large as a wigwam punched through that crevice. The dread pirate screamed and tried to crawl away. The giant, however, was merciless. It grabbed Barbossa by his legs. His eyes were wide, mouth open in a scream that no one heeded as the giant dragged him down through the rift.

Pocahontas was suddenly aware of rushing air and pounding feet all around her. Barbossas' crew abandoned their captain and his captive. The gods were wrestling, rolling around on the ice in a terrible parody of squabbling children. Like children, they were shouting at the top of their inhuman lungs. The ice, thick as a continent but more solid, splintered with their every move with a noise like a cannon blast combined with breaking glass. The giants were striking the ice from underneath, desperate to escape their prison – or find their next human snack. She tried to stand, but the ground was shaking so much and her legs were numb. She fell again. Before she could hit the ground, a hand clasped her upper right arm. She gasped and swung her head, looking directly into the eyes of Jack Sparrow.

"Come on!" Jack shouted over all the noise. "Get up! Run!" He heaved her up and they dashed towards the _Pearl_ hand in hand. They leaped over the bodies of Barbossas' men bleeding out onto the ice. The crimson blood contrasted eerily with the glowing green bodies of the giants underneath. Pocahontas' hood fell off and her hair streamed out behind her as she kept pace with Jack.

Suddenly, a thunderclap sounded right beneath their feet. Ice shards heaved up, threatening to cut their faces. Jacks' right hand slipped out of Pocahontas' left one, ripping the glove with him as they were thrown apart. She landed heavily on her back, sliding back a few feet on the ice from the force of the blast. A giants' fist rose out of the void. Pocahontas struggled up onto her elbows, one leg stretched out while the other bent with her boot on the ground. Dazed, she looked up at it, luminous and green against the night sky, still not believing any of this was real.

"Pocahontas!" Jack shouted from the other side of the fist, what sounded like the other side of the world. She saw him start to dart around the hole to get to her. The fist swiveled around to strike him. Jack flew through the air, landed eagle-spread twenty feet away, and didn't move.

"Jack!" Pocahontas shrieked, but he made no response. She looked up in horror at the massive hand. It turned towards her as if it had heard her cry out. Slowly, with the menace of a nightmare, it started towards her. She scooted backwards, but it did no good. The enormous fingers closed around her legs the same way they had done Barbossas'. Screaming, twisting onto her stomach, scrabbling to find purchase on the smooth ice did no good; the giant started dragging her towards the gap.

The closer she got to the edge, the more desperate she became. She turned to look at Jack one last time. He was struggling to sit up, shaking his head as if in a stupor. He looked towards Pocahontas and his jaw dropped. Automatically her arms reached towards him; whether in a plea for help or a final farewell, she did not know. Immediately he lurched up and ran to her. He slammed down on his stomach before her, arms flung out. They clasped each others' forearms.

"Jack…" Pocahontas breathed.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, love. Come on." He started pulling, but Pocahontas yelped in agony at literally being torn in two directions. Her hips and legs were already inside the fissure with her stomach pressed against the sharp edges, and her elbows resting on the top of the ice.

"It hurts, Jack," She gasped, tears of pain running down and freezing on her cheeks.

"I know, love. Here, I've got an idea. Let go of my right arm." Pocahontas' eyes popped. "Just for a minute. Grab my other arm." She did so reluctantly as her stomach slid below the surface. Jack, who was reaching inside his coat for something, was pulled forward as well. He brought his legs up beneath his body and rose to a kneeling position as he pulled his pistol out from his holster.

"Keep your head down," he warned. He aimed the pistol over her head into the hole and fired. The blast made her ears pop. His aim was apparently true: her whole body jerked as the giant twitched in pain. Jack shot again, and again the monster convulsed but did not let go. Only Pocahontas' head and arms, laying flat on the ice holding onto Jack, were above the edge now. Jack pulled the trigger a final time, and the giant let go with a roar.

The sensation of her legs dangling in empty, bottomless air nearly sent Pocahontas into a hysterical panic. But Jack tossed his pistol aside and threw his right arm down to grip hers again. He heaved, and when she was able to, she pushed up with her elbows. A moment later she was able to throw one leg onto the surface, and then the other. No time to rest: as soon as she was out, they were running again, nearly taking flight over the multi-colored ice absorbing the colors of the sky.

The crew had gotten back to the _Pearl_ before Jack and Pocahontas. They leaned over the rail, shouting encouragement as they neared the ship. Jack urged her up the rope ladder first, and followed immediately after. As soon as they touched the deck, the rope ladder was pulled up and the _Pearl_ cast off. Jack for once did not take the wheel, but stood with his arms around Pocahontas, cheek resting on the top of her head, watching the gods duel. Before long, the god sheathed in blue flame appeared to have won, for Lokis' orange flame was extinguished. At the same time, the moon resumed her usual silver sheen as the eclipse ended. Her brightness nearly drowned out the dancing lights. Pocahontas nearly cried with relief at seeing the world so blessedly normal again.

The gentle blue of the god-light blossomed in front of the couple on deck. The light wasn't so intense this time, so they could see a heavily muscled man, naked to the waist, with a thick wavy mustache and beard standing before them.

"I thank you, Jack Sparrow." The god spoke their language, with a slight accent. "The trickster, Loki, has been put in his proper place. I think not Barbossa nor him will trouble my oceans again."

"Your oceans?" Pocahontas asked, curious.

The god chuckled. "Aye, daughter, my oceans. I am Aegir, lord of the seas. The waters of my home have been disturbed as of late. I felt it especially when the sea serpent Jormungand swam once more. He is Lokis' son, you see. He sent it to destroy you and your ship, because Barbossa knew the only man who could ever outdo him was Captain Jack Sparrow." He nodded to the pirate. "I knew then that something was not right. Loki was confined to a secret place, as punishment for his wily ways. He must have appeared to Barbossa in hopes to strike a bargain. The only time Loki could be released was at Ragnarok. If Barbossa could set in motion the beginning of Ragnarok, Loki would be set free."

"What about Lokis' promise to make Barbossa a god?" Pocahontas wanted to know.

"Doubtless he never meant to give him those powers." Aegir responded, "He has cheated many a man this way. Loki is only interested in his own affairs. He delights in the suffering of others. Starting Ragnarok all on his own would have been his idea of the greatest prank of all time."

The god continued, "When I felt something was not right, I appeared to the Captain of the ship that Jormungand touched." Again, he nodded to Jack. "Jack told me of Barbossa, and of your kidnapping. I eavesdropped on the conversation he had with you," here, he looked at Pocahontas with ancient and knowing eyes that pierced her soul, "and realized at once what was happening. I sped the _Black Pearl_ on its' way to stop this madness. Loki has been confined once more, and the giants slumber again in their frigid beds. As thanks for keeping the world safe, I shall grant the good Captain of this ship one wish." He turned back to Jack. "What is it you most desire?"

Pocahontas looked up and searched Jacks' face. She could read the answer in his eyes.

…

"What is it you most desire?"

The question rang in Jacks' ears. He looked down at the woman in his arms. Intuitively, he knew that she could tell what he was thinking. Of course his greatest desire was her. But even Jack at his worst knew he couldn't ask for her. She was an independent thing, wild in a way. If he bound her into something she didn't even ask for, any chance of her loving him would evaporate. And yet he couldn't bear to part himself from her.

In the end, Jack knew she would have to make her own decision. The look in her eyes told him that she knew, too.

"Just get us to London safely," Jack didn't look at Aegir as he answered. Instead he kept his brown eyes on Pocahontas' black ones. He stroked her cheek as she had done to him so many weeks ago, "No more surprises, no more tricks."

"And so it shall be done," the sea god declared, "and more." They turned to look at the god one last time. "Jack Sparrow, as long as you are Captain of the _Black Pearl_, the winds shall favor her and she shall not meet neither monster nor the bottom of the waves. Thank you again. Fare thee well, Jack Sparrow." The god was gone in another flash of light.

"Thank you, Jack," Pocahontas murmured. He turned back to her and returned her small smile. Her hands were warm against his back underneath his jacket; his hand thawed against her face. He couldn't tell if she was thanking him for rescuing her or for acknowledging her right to choose. In the end, before he lowered his lips to hers, he decided it was a bit of both.

...

Told you it'd be a long one xD Next chapter will be the last. Please stay tuned. =)


	13. Chapter 13

Last chapter! Please enjoy =)

...

Chapter 13

A watery sun shied between the clouds as the _Black Pearl_ maneuvered into the docks of London. The noise of the port got louder and louder the closer she came. Pocahontas stood on the railing, nearly pitching herself overboard trying to get a closer look. So many busy people in such a big village! Look how tall their buildings were! Not a tree to be seen, not a blade of grass. How strange!

As the _Pearl_ neared the city, Pocahontas began to scan the crowd for signs of John Smith. Unfortunately, many of the Londoners sported blonde hair like his. Her heart fell, but not much. She had no doubt whatsoever that she would find him. She had left home with the goal of finding him in her heart, and she still carried that goal with her now.

Well… sort of. Of course she wasn't going to abandon her search now that she was here. But Pocahontas had found an unexpected love in Jack. Her heart leaped remembering their kiss. Yes, Jack would be hard to let go of, but instinctively she knew saying goodbye to John Smith would be impossible.

…

Jack stood at his usual place – the _Pearls'_ wheel – and kept sneaking glances at Pocahontas while trying to steer his ship safely into port. She was leaning over the rail, eyes roaming up and down the docks, obviously looking for her John Smith. He wondered if she would find him. He had no word that she was coming, she had no clue if he was even alive. Somehow, Jack had a feeling she would. She had a way of never giving up, that Pocahontas.

His heart twisted at the thought of her leaving him. She had filled something inside him that he wasn't even aware was missing. Her innocence and practicality balanced out his roguishness. Her easy way of loving charmed him. Yet…

_If you love someone enough, you've got to set them free._

…

If the gangplank made a sound at it hit the dock, it was instantly drowned out in the noise of London. Pocahontas stepped down gingerly, not quite used to solid ground after months at sea. The wood was cool and damp beneath her bare feet. She threaded her way through the crowd, guided by a force she could feel but not see. It was quite like that time, ages ago it seemed, that Jack had first lent her his compass. She pushed back thoughts of Jack and pressed on.

A moment later, she stopped dead. A shift in the swarm of citizens had revealed what looked to be a familiar profile. _Could it be…?_ The young woman took another step forward, and another. Yes, she had seen that face before. She had loved it. Her heart stopped at the past tense. _No, no,_ she scolded herself, _you still love it – you still love him!_ But a smaller part of her wasn't so sure anymore.

In that moment, John Smith turned and laid his eyes on her. The blue grew and grew with shock. For a moment, they stood rooted to the dock, London bustling around them as they tried to make sure they weren't dreaming. Slowly, they moved towards each other, connected by their gaze. They stopped mere feet from each other.

"Pocahontas." Johns' voice was hoarse, quiet, exactly the way she remembered.

"Yes, John." She smiled a little. "It's me."

His face softened in response. The tender look in his eyes made her knees weak yet sent her heart writhing. He closed the distance between them in one step and swept her up in an embrace. She pressed her palms against his chest, touching him but not quite returning the hug. His hands stroked the hair on the top of her head, her lower back, while his lips murmured her name over and over.

Pocahontas couldn't stand her heart being torn in two anymore. She looked up to tell him she was sorry, but he smothered the things she had to say with a kiss. Despite herself, she returned it. Yes, she loved John Smith in the enduring way of first loves, but she had been wrong. Her path had looped in on itself, and led her to Jack, but she hadn't been able to see the bend.

…

Jack turned away. It was apparent from the way she was kissing him who her choice was. The pirate gruffly wiped at his eyes as he made his way blindly back to the _Pearl_, trying to stop the tears before they started.

…

"John," she began when they broke apart.

"Pocahontas," he interrupted. "I can't believe you're here."

"I needed to know you were alive." She explained. "I had no word… I thought you were dead." Tears welled up in her eyes and her fists clenched against his chest remembering that pain, thinking of the pain she was about to inflict on him.

"You didn't get my letter?" He asked, startled.

"What letter?" She demanded, just as equally distressed.

"Why, I sent you a letter back in autumn. I'm fully healed! I wrote that I was put in charge of regulating the ships from here to the New World, and that I wouldn't be able to come back. But now that you're here…" His voice trailed off, but his face brightened.

"It must have come right after we left." Pocahontas said in an undertone, mostly to herself.

"We? How did you get here, anyway?" John inquired.

"On the _Black Pearl_." Pocahontas turned out of his arms to point at the black sails.

John was struck dumb. "A _pirate_ ship?"

"They may be pirates, but they are some of the kindest and most honorable men I've met." Pocahontas didn't mean for her voice to sound so cold as she turned back to him.

John held up his hands in a gesture of peace, "I meant no offense, Pocahontas. If you say they are, then they must be." He grinned at her, obviously still delighted she had found her way back to him.

Pocahontas returned his smile with a small one of her own. She turned back to the Pearl and saw Jack walking up the gangplank. A stab of fear went through her chest. There was only one reason she could think of why his shoulders would be slumped like that. _Oh no…_

She tried to take a step towards the ship but John grabbed her wrist. "Come on, I want to show you around London. I can show you where I live now, and the office where I work."

"John," urgency stained her voice, "I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Why not? You just got here!"

"John." Her voice became very quiet. She wanted to look anywhere but those eyes, but she held her gaze. "I love you, but I can't stay here."

"Why? I know the city takes a while to get used to, but we could go out to the country for a while…"

Hair black as night whipped through the air as she shook her head. "No, that's not it… John, I left home to find you. And I have. But now that I'm here, I feel like you should be someone else." His eyes hardened, his hand tightened a little on her wrist. It didn't hurt exactly, but Pocahontas started to feel trapped. "I still love you, John," she went on, almost pleading with him, "I'll always love you, you were the first man I ever loved. But you have a life here that I'm not sure I can share with you."

Johns' lips were pressed into a tight line, his blue eyes solid as sapphires. For an awful moment he said nothing. Then his eyes closed, his head ducked. When he looked up, his eyes were sad, but the steel had gone out of them. He altered his hold on her wrist so that they were holding hands and stroked her cheek. "You never could sit still; you're as beautiful and capricious as the wind." He kissed her forehead. "I understand."

Pocahontas understood as well – he loved her enough to let her go. She smiled at him a final time and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, John. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, my love." He stood watching for a moment as she bounded towards the _Pearl_. He then turned and made his way back home, but Pocahontas didn't see.

"Jack!" she shouted, leaping up the gangplank. She spotted him at the wheel, as usual, looking back out to sea. "Jack!" She took the steps up two at a time.

He turned and she stopped dead. His eyes were red-rimmed and hostile. "Come to say goodbye, have you?" He spoke to her without an endearment: he was angry. _And hurt,_ she added,_ if he saw me kissing John._

"No, Jack." She moved towards him like she would a frightened animal.

"Then what do you want? Be off with you and your John Smith." He snapped.

"No, Jack," she repeated, still making her way to him. "There is no John Smith anymore."

"Then what was the kissing for, eh?" He demanded.

"For saying goodbye." She smiled.

Now Jack looked confused. "But… I saw -,"

"I know what you saw, Jack," Pocahontas said gently, "But it wasn't what you thought. John and I have said goodbye. I couldn't stay in London with John; I'm too much like you." By now, Pocahontas was close enough to touch Jacks' face – which is what she did next.

He looked at her with astonishment. "By that, do you mean…?"

"Yes, Jack." Pocahontas cupped his other cheek. "I want to stay with you. I love you." The kiss she gave him then was tender and deep as the calm sea. His arms wrapped around her waist as he returned her passion. Pocahontas froze that moment and kept it in her memory forever.

"So, love, where to next?" That smile was the happiest she had seen him wear. She hoped fervently that she would see it again and again, forever.

She returned his grin, "Wherever the winds take us."

...

Thank you all so much for reading, reviewing and being patient with me while I wrote this. Special shout-out to mah best fraaand Allison who constantly pushed me to finish this so she could read it xD Lovez you, hun! Until next time. Peace out, everyone.


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